Frozen Flame
by DarkTheDead
Summary: 7 years. Seven years, did the hero of time sleep. But Zelda, what horror did she have to experience through those 7 long years, and how did she manage to cope? Rating will probably go up.
1. Doll of Porcelain

A/N: Hello. Yes, another one of my fics. I know I still have to redo the high school one, but I'm going to focus on this one for now. I hope you enjoy it. I sure as hell got pissed off, after reading all the other fics that have Zelda as a weak crybaby. Or, a weak crybaby with random events of girl power. I mean, come ON. There has to be something going on in the castle, and I'm going to do my best to make this ficlet angst full and cold, yet warm your heart at surprising times.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own Zelda or any of the characters from the Legend of Zelda series. I only own my beautiful nerd plushie, and please don't take that away from meee!   
Frozen Flame  
  
.:Chapter 1:.  
Doll of Porcelain  
"Yes father."  
  
Her words held no life. No meaning. No emotion. They were just words to her, that was all. That's all she is. A machine that spoke, moved, acted, and felt mechanically, with traces of natural grace intertwined within. It was not her place to decide whom she would love, and whom she would marry. Not that she knew what those two words meant anyway. All she knew was that she was 8 years of age, and already far too wise to be allowed any fun.  
  
What was fun anyway?  
  
What did that word mean? This question, she knew, was always asked, but never answered. How she longed for yesterday, where she had met a mysterious boy. But, today is not yesterday, and would never be. So she stood there with quiet eyes, and merely nodded. Her eyes were cold, empty, drained.  
  
"Zelda, I hope you appreciate what I am doing for you."   
"Yes father."  
  
The king sitting upon the throne before her still looked young, even for his age, but his eyes held the cold wisdom of sight. Surely, he had seen much in his years, and the wisdom gained from the experiences did not affect his already cold outlook, his negative view on so many things.  
  
"Must you be so polite?"  
"Yes father."  
"Can't you call me papa? Or daddy? Why must you be so formal?"  
"..."  
  
She continued to look at him through an empty expression. It was amazing, how an 8 year old can be so cold. Yet, inside, her hopes rose. Perhaps her father did care? Perhaps she didn't have to be so mechanical? Perhaps she could be... happy? Should she dare to believe that?  
  
No. Experience had taught her better. Too many things... too many things seen, remembered within the eyes of a broken child. Once a porcelain doll now shattered upon the freezing stone ground.  
Now... rearranged and fitted into the shape of a mechanical doll.  
  
"Because you made me, father."  
"I made you?"  
"Yes father."  
  
She watched as the king seemed to deliberate her answer. The throne room was beautifully decorated, the ceilings high, and the corridor narrow. Beautiful paintings, and sculptures decorated the walls, and a soft, plush, crimson carpet stretched out beneath her.  
  
Zelda wore the normal formal dress for a princess. Her hair tied back and behind her, hidden in a white cloth, with purple decorations. Her dress was simple, with the mark of the triforce in the front. Her blue eyes were empty, glassy almost, as though she really were a doll of porcelain.  
  
"Do you hate me, princess?" For such kind words, did they seem so meaningless when spoken out of the King's mouth.  
"No father." Her response was too quick for the King, but he merely nodded, as he always did. He knew, as the many servants of the castle did, that his daughter was too alike him for both to get along comfortably. He merely sighed inwardly, the emptiness inside his burdened heart throbbing within his thin frame.  
  
"Return to your studies, then, my daughter."  
"Yes father."  
  
Zelda turned, and walked. Her steps were mechanical, her bodyguard and ever-watchful guardian, Impa, following behind her.   
  
For a child so young, and so small, her presence brought about a cold shudder to all nearby. She was not always like this. No. She only gave a cold outlook just before, and just after, seeing her father, or seeing her mother. Which was exactly where she was going.  
  
The rain was not rain. The sky was clear, but cloudy. Everything was nothing to her. Her mother could not talk, she could not move. And she did not breathe. The grass was green, and the mud was not. She hated it all, but she could care less. Hate and Anger and Fear and Pain were all she could understand. And happiness. That one emotion was brought and revealed when she forgot everything else.  
  
But one with a mind and wisdom of hers could not forget. Never, could she forget.  
  
"Hello Mother."  
  
There was no response. There never was, and never will be.  
  
Impa stood, far more taller than the young girl. An umbrella was held, keeping both of them from being soaked by the bone chilling water of the heavens. Eyes that held remorse, she surveyed the area. The young child went through mood swings, which should not happen, but always did. The outside was cold. A very cold place, but the castle was cold as well. Perhaps much colder.  
  
The central graveyard of Hyrule castle was one rarely seen by, and rarely talked about. The ancestors of the Harkinian family stretched nearly to the beginning of the worlds, and the three goddesses. The gravestones were all beautiful, but none were as beautiful as the one that stood tall before the small porcelain princess.  
  
"Here lies Ivorie Harkinian.  
A Kind Woman, A Mother, And A Queen.  
Rest In Peace."  
  
Zelda merely stood at the headstone. Reading. And Rereading. And rereading. Over and Over and Over again. She hated herself. Her mother had died, and she could not cry, because she had cried a thousand tears, and still lived.  
  
Her mother had often visited her dreams, telling her of her love, and how she should forgive herself, and live on. But... Zelda could not. Not for all the wonderful things in the land could she bring herself to love herself, or anyone else. She would regain what she had lost by filling what she will create. She will study, and train, and live for the fulfillment of the nothing. The black that threatened to take over her soul, should she give up and surrender to her self pity and hate.  
  
Which is why Zelda is a princess like no other. 


	2. Escape the Fool

A/N: I don't know... This chapter came out weird. I had writer's block half way through, and dropped it. Then picked it back up a few days later to finish it, so there will be some weird stuff goin' round the center. But otherwise, I think I got my thoughts through. ^^; And sorry, it is kinda short, but I promise a longer next chapter.  
  
Thanks for the review. I feel really happy, everyone seems to like how its going, and I LOVE the feedback too. I'll make note of everything, and then redo the whole story when its done.  
  
And, about the title... No, I did not realize this. I have never played Chrono Cross before, and I lack money... --; But... No, this will not contain Chrono Cross of any kind, thank you for mentioing it however.  
  
Also, Zelda was very emotional and happy when she met Link. That's what I meant to say, but I sorta forgot to mention that in the last chap... lol Ok, on to the story.  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own, any of the characters from the Legend of Zelda series. Thank you.   
.:Chapter 2:.  
Escape the Fool  
Screams echoed through the long, cold corridors of the isolated castle. The guards at the gates knew nothing, and the guards within were quickly silenced. Footsteps on the cold, marble floor, running silently.  
  
Zelda watched sadly as Impa quickly cast a spell kindred to the Sheikah, to hide themselves from the sight of only one person. Of course, the theiving man who had falsely promised an alliance. Her father had been imprisoned.  
  
Dead? She wasn't sure. Not that Zelda could say she did or didn't care. She didn't know what it was like, she realized, to have a father in the first place. Even if he is alive, he would never be a father, merely stay a masculine guardian and nothing more.  
  
One tear. Only one, lonely, tear slid down the cheek of tired girl. She was a child again. Scared. Fearful. Her hands shaking. The beautiful blue ocarina clutched in her hands.  
  
Impa swept Zelda into her arms, running with swift, silent steps, turning every corner, every straight away, with a unique speed and swiftness that confounded even Zelda. No one could have known the Sheikah to be this quick, or powerful.  
  
Ganondorf was in the hall they had ran down. His looming stature angered the young princess. She should have been the one to take over the throne, but now, she would be the one to watch from the sidelines. This mad gerudo theif was going to take over the country, and the princess could do nothing about it. Zelda. Princess of Hyrule. Diminished into just another insignificant speck.  
  
And he walked. Impa stood still, blending with the shadows, whispering soundless incantations to lengthen and strengthen the spell. The black cape of the gerudo man whipped in the still air. He stepped, paced, down the hall. Closer to the hiding protector and the princess. Yet, he had a look of pure annoyance, that gave away the fact that he had no idea where they were.  
  
He stopped, just past them. He turned, but still held the pathetic look in his eyes. Yes, he was overconfident, and he was blind.   
  
Eventually, he disappeared around the corner, his cape and footsteps echoing into the oblivion, the darkness that consumed the once lit corridors.  
  
Everything was a blur as Impa ran to the stables, Zelda on her beautuiful white mare, Ivorie, named after her mother. The beautiful mare was born the day Zelda's mother had died, several years ago. It seemed fit to name the horse after her mother, and it was proven correct. Impa sat behind zelda, protectively sheilding her from what she would see anyway.   
  
Impa's voice echoed silently, as she urged Ivorie into a quick paced gallop, flying through the opened gates in the dark of night. Over the hills, and speeding down dirt road of the courtyard, and into Castle town. They easily swerved by any who still stood within the streets, making a quick escape.  
  
Zelda held onto Impa for dear life, and looked behind them at Impa's command. Ganondorf was not far behind, not far behind at all. They passed over the drawbridge, and an unusual spot of green and blodn caught her attention. Without thinking, Zelda through her sacred ocarina high into the air and watched it fly, crashing into the water of the moat.  
  
Zelda turned back, to face forward, knowing that the mysterious fairy boy from a few days ago would know what to do. She hoped, anyway. Now, in the midst of her fear, she did not know what was to be done, and did not know if her decision was the correct one.  
  
She could only hope that Ganondorf did not find her, and did not kill the Hero of Time. 


	3. Are you an Angel?

A/N: thank you for the comments. Now, this chapter's end is almost completely opposite of the beginning, so I have created an equation to help clear that up:  
Child + Princess Responsibilities + Slow Destruction of home/kingdom = Angst  
Child + Good Food = Happy  
Simple, ne? *nervous laughter*  
  
.:Chapter 3:.  
Are you an Angel?  
  
They had been riding. Traveling, for two long days. The sun had risen and had set twice each, and the skies had become darker. Zelda and her caretaker, Impa, had to stop during the day, only traveling at night and in the shadows underground.  
  
Zelda had never known there to be so many intricate tunnels connecting all the grottos under the sacred earth. How could she? Only the Sheikah had access to them, and she was certainly not a Sheikah. Merely a princess, who had a natural ability to tune herself to the spirits of the world, otherwise referred to as magic.  
  
So, without Impa's notice (for the woman was too busy making sure they were not to be seen by Ganondorf's spies), Zelda had cast a simple spell of watcher, to be able to see all that happened to the dear kingdom that she had left behind. What she was required to do, however, was to drift in and out of unconsciousness, thusly making it easier for Impa to travel with her, yet more difficult because Zelda had to be carried.  
  
How could have Impa not noticed? The caretaker, Zelda assumed, had thought that Zelda suffered from shock and despair, leaving her wallowing in an unstable state. What she saw from her visions, however, did send her into a similar and horribly realistic nightmare.  
  
---  
  
Zelda stood in the center of Hyrule market, invisible to anyone and everyone. With her simplest of simple magic spells that she had taught herself, she was able to see everything from every perspective, anywhere.  
  
So, she took on a standing form of her regular point of view.  
  
Screams echoed through the town, pained and terrified. Horror and an immense feeling of fear overcame the town. In the escape the princess had taken, innocent bystanders were trampled by the dark man of the desert. Whispers of morbid rumors were echoed soundlessly from within the walls of the buildings that saw everything and spoke not a word.  
  
Crowds of people bustled onto the streets, crowding the bloody scene on the ground, blood painting the cobblestone road. Nothing made sense to the poor girl that none could see. Zelda wasn't sure what was going on.  
  
All she could see was blood. And fire. She saw the evil man, Ganondorf, come from the path that lead to the Temple of Time. He was laughing, clenching his fists and shouting orders to the monstrous beings swarming the city. The people cried, and Zelda jumped slightly when a young child fell before 'her'. His eyes stared right at her, as if he could see her, and she cried. His arm, he had no hand. Blood stained his shirt, and all the screams and chaos seemed to silence around them.  
  
Zelda stared at the boy, who looked only to be 4 years old and already far beyond repair. Pale, and weak, he stared at her. His voice meekly reached her hearing.  
  
"Are you an angel...?"  
  
And then his body collapsed, his head on the ground, and his dead eyes staring forward into eternity.  
  
---  
  
Zelda jerked awake from her lingering memory turned nightmare, to find herself in a small bed. Cotton blankets. A simple, commoner's bed. She noted this, and also noted that it was excruciatingly difficult to sit up.  
  
She blinked her eyes slowly, and opened them again, this time noticing a very comfortable looking feline sitting upon her chest, on top of the blanket. It had white fur, with the occasional smear of gray, and brilliant green eyes. It stared at her, as if knowing everything that could run through her mind at that moment.  
  
Zelda sighed, looking around the darkened room. It was simple, like a cottage room of some sort, and small. The ceiling was awfully close, which could mean the bed was unusually high, or there was another bed below hers. The cat on her chest, however, did not reveal any secrets as to how it got up there in the first place.  
  
But, Zelda knew, she would find out soon.  
  
And she was right. The door to the cold room opened, revealing none other than a strange woman dressed in many pieces of white cloth. Zelda stiffened as the eyes of the woman was turned towards her, the face hidden by a curtain of perfect black hair. The dark auburn eyes stared, unnerving even the thickest of Zelda's emotional walls to protect her from the outside world. It was as though the woman could see right through her, and into her very soul.  
  
What Zelda did not know, however, was that the woman felt the same when Zelda stared at her as well.  
  
The frivolous cat sitting upon Zelda's chest had, then, decided to butt into the staring contest and meow the most pitiful and pathetic cry either female had heard as of yet. Both snapped their attentions to the feline, watching it lick its paw proudly, and leap off the bed.  
  
It landed, quite gracefully, on the rug protected wooden floor, and ran out of the room, leaving Zelda and the woman in each other's company. Zelda never did like cats, and was washed over with grateful emotions that the feline animal left and allowed her to sit up. Her deep blue eyes turned to look directly at the woman, allowing her gaze to be less harsh than before.  
  
The woman bowed slightly, before addressing her. "Princess Zelda, it is good to see you finally awake."  
  
"...Where am I?" The room certainly was quite different from the last scene that she had seen, and left her with a confused feeling. The woman obviously had answers that Zelda needed. To her surprise, the woman let out a soft chuckle, stepping into the room, and to the side. After a moment, a very familiar woman stepped into the doorway. Zelda's caretaker, the Sheikah by the name of Impa, smiled softly at her.  
  
"You have been sleeping for quite awhile young princess; it is a relief to see you awake and ready."  
  
Zelda looked at her, more confused than before. Impa, easily reading the expression on her face, smiled wider.  
  
"Come. I have much to tell thee, but first, we shall get you breakfast."  
  
Zelda sat on the side of the bed, her knees over the edge and her legs swinging idly. She gripped her hands on the rim, and easily hopped off the side of the top bunk. She fell five feet, landing gracefully, a grin slowly forming on her face, and the nightmares forgotten for now. She looked up at the tall caretaker, and the other, much shorter, woman. Zelda imagined what a home made breakfast would taste like, without the castle cooks being so precise and health efficient. An actual delicious breakfast. Well, as one could imagine, Zelda was ecstatic. She threw her fists in the air, and shouted.  
  
"Food!" 


	4. Dream Me, Myself

A/N: I'm sorry. I need to study for finals, and I ultimately despise the board of education. One day, they will find my foot in contact with their face.  
  
Short chapter today. Sorry. ;;  
  
.:Chapter 4:.  
  
Dream Me, Myself  
  
Ragged breaths and droplets of sweat, mingled with blood, exploded upon contact with the ground. Straining muscles, and a beating heart, a pulse accelerated and the adrenaline just as high. The whispers created by a sharp blade, cutting through the air. The fiery static, pulsating within, the burning need and desire for survival.   
  
The need alone was great.  
  
Zelda landed, one foot outstretched, the other beneath her, with one hand on the ground in front, and another to the side to help her balance. A year had passed. A year of relaxation, and meditation. Of acceptance, and the teaching to let go. To let go of fear, pain, doubt.  
  
She leapt upwards, a forward flip, and landing on a thin, 2cm rail, 10ft above the ground. The sharpened blade, aptly nicknamed Masamune, filled her ears, and the sting of sweat was beginning to reach her eyes through her soaked bandana. Her senses were focused, and she moved at the last moment...  
  
Slice.  
  
The rail was ripped in half, perfectly, and gave way to the many items it held up. The sword master fell to the ground, and Zelda rushed forward, kicking Masmune from her grasp. In a quick, low spin, she kicked the jaw of her enemy, catching the sword by the hilt behind her back, and positioning it just under the bruised chin of the unmoving woman.  
  
"Now. Mika Lumanes, tell me what I need to know."  
  
The woman stared up, into the cold, blood red eyes of a mere 12 year old girl. How? How could the sword master, Mika, be beaten by a rogue, sheikah wannabe? True, the girl looked like the murmured prophesized sheikah, which were to lead the hero of time to the downfall of evil. But, it was just a story, wasn't it?  
  
The piercing red eyes burned into Mika, and the strands of white blond hair from beneath the bandana atop her head framed her eyes, enhancing the eerie glow. Mika shuddered, the pain of broken legs slowing creeping into her consciousness. Mika's eyes searched everywhere for an exit, and escape, her fear evident to the Sheikah.  
  
That's when Mika twitched. Her eyes changed from fear to cruel amusement, giving the Sheikah little time to register what was going on. Zelda spun around, in time to watch, almost as if in slow motion, as the metal arrow pierced the unmoving air, hitting her with such force, and piercing the chest armor. Zelda fell backwards, the world slowly turning black. The pain roared within her body, as two gleaming eyes stared at her from the dark. Her body hit the floor...  
  
And she woke up.   
  
Zelda sat up, gasping, her eyes darting wildly, her clothes soaked in cold sweat. However, she soon regained her composure, recognizing the area around her almost immediately. Her shuddering form took two deep calming breathes, and only two were needed. She had fallen asleep in the tree house that she had built, a bit away from the Sheikah village.  
  
It was small, and dark. Dank, and cold, but it was something to be proud of nonetheless. Zelda had built the makeshift shelter on one of her survival tests of endurance. The Sheikah were amazingly quick and strong for their thin frames, and Zelda was slowly being raised as one.  
  
Her preteen features shifted from a slightly surprised expression to one of confusion. Impa had often reminded Zelda that dreams were not to be taken seriously, as dreams can often mislead a person to their doom. But, why then, was she having the same dream ever since her 12th birthday, only a few months ago? It didn't make sense to her.   
  
Yet... She still hadn't bothered to tell Impa about them. They were only dreams... right?  
  
The ex-princess let out a heavy sigh, slowly tossing the cloth blanket off her battered body. Her eyes ran over herself, from the toes of her feet, up to her chest. Both legs were bandaged around the knee and ankle areas, and her arms were similar, only bandaged around the elbows and wrists. Her waist and upper chest was wrapped tightly with a semi-heavy tarp-like fabric, to keep her bruised ribs from further damage, as well as to make her sex/gender a debatable thing. Her hands, knuckles aching, she willed to move. The bandages had to come off, before she fell asleep again.  
  
Slowly, she peeled and rolled each band off her right leg, followed by the left, and then the left arm. She unwrapped her right arm slowly, her fingers slowly tracing a scar that seemed to curve just around her elbow and halfway up the back of her arm. Tears stung her eyes at the remembrance of the pain that soon came after, a small sigh escaping her. She rolled up the bands, placing them in a row besides her sleep mat for the morning, and continued.   
  
Her skin was bare, except for a few scars and large bruises tainting the pale glow. Only a few pieces of torn cloth covered her unmentionables. Another sigh escaped the girl as the cloth blanket was pulled over her, and a dreamless sleep claimed her.  
  
A/N: Sigh. I sorta got weird in this one. ...eh... o_O 


End file.
